


P is for Power

by goodmorningvietnam666



Series: IronHawk Alphabet [16]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Autumn Weather, Banter, Books, Confident Clint, First Kiss, Flirting, Hiding from the Cold, M/M, Shy(ish) Tony, Stealing Scarves, book nerds, coffee shop AU, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 17:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7062772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodmorningvietnam666/pseuds/goodmorningvietnam666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Coffee Shop AU</p><p>Tony's been visiting this place for months now, using it to work, read and write to his heart's content, happy not to talk to anyone. But when his laptop actually starts to go flat, and he desperately needs to keep it alive, he's only able to find one table with a powerpoint,</p><p>And he has to talk to stranger to get to it. </p><p>What could possibly go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	P is for Power

**Author's Note:**

> I've finally given in and written a Coffee Shop AU... help me?

It was a cold day in autumn, red, orange, and yellow leaves littered the streets of New York and people had started investing in warm long coats and leather jackets, preparing for what was to be the coldest winter yet. Tony Stark blamed global warming, but would people listen? No, they wanted to know who his next girl/boyfriend would be, and how long it would last. It was infuriating, but it was his life, and there really wasn’t much he could do. 

The cold was his natural enemy, as much as his workshop was his material enemy, and so while he wasn’t working at home, he’d refused to do anything outside, and had chosen a small coffee shop in the middle of town, the walls a crisp white while the furniture popped with soft greens and blues – the workers here were nice, and the patrons quiet, so it allowed him to concentrate, tapping away and sometimes bringing a pen to the paper near him and marking something, or scribbling a few words down. The coffee at his right was steaming still, his third of the day, and the clouds refused an inch of sun to break through, the wind kicking up leaves and buffeting jackets: he was glad he was inside. 

His laptop’s screen dulled slightly, and he froze in his work, glancing reluctantly down to the battery icon, which was flashing languidly. He swore, frantically saving what he could, and lamented over what he could do. He glanced around the shop and caught the sight of a power point beneath a table, but the success seemed pointless when he noted the table nearest was occupied. 

A young man was sitting with his back to the wall, eyes cast down onto the book his was reading, one hand playing at the scarf around his neck, the other supporting the book. He was handsome, Tony thought, ruggedly so, and it made him rethink his single status for a brief moment. 

That man guarded the only source of power in the building, and Tony refused to brave the cold again. So, deliberately, he packed his work away into the satchel by his side and walked up to the register, catching the barista’s attention. She was attractive too, and he wondered how he had been blind to this before, with her hair dyed a cerulean blue and her eyes a lush green. As casually as he could, he asked her what the blonde man in the corner had ordered, and asked for the same, then set over to the table. 

“Hi” he said simply, sliding over the cup assuredly, examining the book for a brief moment “Dorian Grey huh? You know that was used as evidence in Oscar Wilde’s trial, it’s a great book, I’m sure you’re loving it, given you’re halfway through, mind plugging this in?” it came out more like a ramble than charming as he’d planned it, and after the other man raised a curious brow, the cord was taken out of his grip and plugged in, his laptop whirring back to life as he placed it on his half of the table, spreading his notes in the remainder of his space. 

“Yeah… I know I’m supposed to hate Dorian but… I dunno, eternal life spent in search of pleasure? Seems fair” the blonde finally answered, an amused grin on his features, a dimple revealing itself in his right cheek, his profile outlined against the wall behind him as he was facing inward, right side exposed, left almost against the wall “So, Oscar Wilde expert, you got a name to go with those eyes?” 

Tony was surprised when he felt himself blush, and he glanced up from salvaging his work “I, uh, it’s… it’s Tony” he wanted to sink to the floor now, so desperately wishing he’d just braved the cold: this man was merciless, the way his gaze raked him up and down over the top of the book, gaze reading obvious interest. 

The blonde nodded “Suits you” he said softly, and then, that was it. 

He furrowed his brow at the strangeness of it, but returned to his work diligently, falling back into a pattern without trouble, heart still pounding despite the other man’s silence. 

He was staying single, at least for a while, he’d promised he would stay single.

After a long half an hour of silence, sans the noise of his typing, the blonde made a small disappointed noise in the back of his throat, and for whatever reason, Tony found it very attractive and his confidence was suddenly back. “So” he said, refusing to look away from his work, too afraid of blushing again – he was a playboy, playboys didn’t blush. “Have you read much of his work?”

“Just this” the blonde answered “A friend recommended it after I finished ‘Dracula’… said if I liked dark fantasy, I should try Wilde, so I did… I’m not disappointed yet”

He’d read Dracula? Tony was pretty sure he was in love. “You survived ‘Dracula’? Most give up, call it a dry read, I’m… impressed” was it too cocky? Probably… why on earth did he care about that? “Well, anyway, when you finish Wilde, and if you do like fantasy… tackle Tolkien, or Martin, either is worth it”

Suddenly the book was closed, the purple tassel of the bookmark resting on its front cover, and he was caught in the other man’s gaze “You’ve read ‘A Song of Ice and Fire’?” when he nodded, the other man grinned “Finally” he said, and it sounded so overjoyed that Tony had to ignore his work, at least for this. 

An hour turned to two, and the topic changed from book to book, Tony gave more recommendations than he received, but only because he was well-read. The other man was enthusiastic, the amused detachment long gone. 

“You know, all of my friends told me I’d never meet someone who’d read everything, but now I’ve met you Tony, I can prove them wrong” the blonde said once the conversation lulled.

He chuckled, blushing slightly “I just… like reading… a lot”

“I think I like you a lot”

“Did you know that you’re frighteningly forward?”

The blonde chuckled and grinned “Part of my charm… I’m Clint, don’t think I mentioned that”

“Considering you’ve just been ‘the blonde’ for nearing three hours, no, I don’t think you did” he quipped, finally finding his feet with this bold mystery in a scarf. He glanced at his work, and gently set the laptop down. 

“What are you even working on?” Clint asked, and before he could answer, deft hands slid the papers over and that calculated gaze was on his paper. 

He fumbled to answer, and ended up falling silent, squeezing the pen in his hand so tightly he was afraid he’d break it. 

“You write?” that curious brow was raised again, and Tony coughed awkwardly. 

“It’s… a hobby?” he answered, and it was true – he’d only done it out of curiosity, to see if he could do what authors did: wasn’t disappointed yet – he just kept it quiet. 

Clint was silent as he read, expression unreadable, before he drew his eyes up to meet Tony’s “S’good” was all he said, and it told him nothing. 

He rolled his eyes “Such a promising review”, he snarked, even though he was terrified. 

“You written anything else?”

Tony chuckled, then decided, what the hell? “A bit of fanfiction, under a pseudonym”

Clint’s eyes widened in wordless surprise, and then he laughed “I’m afraid to ask, for what?”

“Doctor Who, Star Wars… Hellsing? Uh… Suits… a couple of video games” he stopped, catching himself “Why the hell am I answering this?” he asked, suddenly mortified. 

The blonde just shook his head in disbelief “I’m going to have to read it”

He groaned, but a smile stayed stuck to his face “No” he said it half-heartedly, and Clint nodded his head wordlessly. 

“Send me everything you’ve written, original or otherwise, we can go to dinner in a week, and I can tell you how great it is”

“You’re joking”

“Nope, I’m serious, you’re good-looking, and adorable when you blush – I want to make you do it some more”

“Again – scarily forward”

“And?”

“And what?”

Clint’s grin refused to fade, and he blushed again “And is that a yes or a no?”

“Yes” he said, without blinking, wondering if he’d regret it later. 

Clint took the pen from his grip and printed his email at the top of the page, then handed both the papers and the pen back “I’ll be upset if you blow me off, but I guess I can move on, knowing that avid readers aren’t like unicorns”

He was absurd and unorthodox, impossible to read and frustratingly aloof; but, surprisingly, Tony found he actually wanted more “Don’t worry, your hunt is over, it’s taming me that’s the difficult part” he managed “I hope you like challenges”

“I love them”

“Then you’re going to love me”

“Don’t get cocky Tony, we haven’t been on a date yet” Clint stood as Tony did and watched him pack his stuff up, sliding his own book into his long coat. 

He chuckled “Now who’s being cocky?”

“Me? Cocky? No… just self-assured” the blonde replied, holding the door open for him as they stepped out into the wind and Tony shivered, both from the cold and from the sudden way Clint was in his space. 

He huffed, unwilling to back down to this strange man, he took hold of the edges of the blonde’s scarf and unravelled it from his neck, leaning up and taking a gentle grip on the nape of Clint’s neck, kissing him chastely “Be as assured as you want, but I don’t submit very easily” he said softly, then wrapped the blonde’s scarf around his own neck, attempting not to blush. He held up and end of the scarf and grinned “A reason to stay interested” he announced watching Clint shake his head in a mixture of disbelief and amusement. 

“Okay Tony, I’ll see you in a week” he sounded so assured and confident, and Tony wondered if anything would phase him.

He supposed he would find out.

**Author's Note:**

> This could have way more to it, but I wanted to post to IronHawk alphabet so I guess it'll help to think of it as a possible future multi-chapter story?


End file.
